


Junkies

by Trojie



Category: RocknRolla (2008)
Genre: M/M, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-13
Updated: 2011-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-15 15:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Two knows he needs to walk away from this, but he can't help himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Junkies

**Author's Note:**

> Written as commentfic for Photoclerk, which then got out of hand, and which she then beta-read for me. (Not part of the [Stories That Aren't About Cats](http://archiveofourown.org/series/5691) 'verse.)

This is the fifth Saturday night in a row Bob has taken One Two home and not touched him. Before that, it was three Saturdays of Bob taking One Two home and taking him to bed. Before that, it was the night before Bob's hearing.

One Two thought he was just looking after his mate, that night. And the nights after that he didn't know what he was doing, he just … couldn't resist. And five Saturdays ago he tried to get a grip and he told Bob no, and Bob said, 'thank fuck,' soft and sad, like he'd been waiting for it, and 'can we just be mates again?' and One Two had said yes, hoping it would work.

It's taken him five weeks to admit that it's _him_ doing this and it's not just a pity-fuck, or whatever other bullshit he's been feeding himself. _He_ wants Bob, and not just because he feels sorry for him. _He_ wants this.

And now that he knows that, he has to have it again.

And he's managed to get Bob into his living room, and he's managed to get close, but, 'We can't keep doing this, One Two,' Bob says when One Two tries to touch him, running fingers down the space between his t-shirt's collar and his skin. 'I thought we agreed,' he adds, in his soft hoarse voice. He licks his lips.

One Two doesn't care what they agreed. One Two has never been a junkie, but he has hung around enough of them that he knows the signs, and he's starting to understand what drives them, because One Two needs something that he shouldn't even _want_ , but he does, oh he does. One Two wants something dangerous, something he's ashamed of in his more lucid moments, something that he's sure would disgust his friends and break his friendships, not to mention his dearly-departed mother's heart. She'd be rolling in her grave over this.

Because One Two wants Handsome Bob.

And God help him, but he isn't strong enough to resist.

'One time the boys'd understand,' Bob is saying, careful, and not looking One Two in the eyes. 'They've already fuckin' laughed it off as you givin' me a goodbye present. But every weekend, mate? They're going to find out.' Bob sighs. 'And then it'll be my fault, and you'll hate me.'

'Y'can't tell me you don't want it, Bob,' One Two says, pressing him, pressing _against_ him. It's a dirty trick, and he doesn't care. He needs. He _needs_ this.

'Wouldn't dream of it. But I'm not the one lying, am I?' Bob asks. 'You know what I am, and the lads know what I am. I've been nothing but fucking honest with you.'

'Just once more,' One Two curves his hands around Bob's neck, along the thick bulk of his shoulders, leaning in close, letting him feel how much One Two wants him. 'Please Bob, I won't ask again.' But it's a lie. They both know it's a lie. He won't be able to stop, he knows it. And Bob's right, the lads'll find out, and they'll never hear the end of it, and he's _not_ gay, he's just...

It's just Bob, is all it is. The way Bob makes him feel. That's not gay, not that feeling of need, the need to touch and take, that's something that doesn't change no matter _who_ you need to have, man or woman. But the lads won't understand. One Two can see how it'll go down, and Bob's right, it'll end with Bob gone. One Two knows he should step back from this right now, make Bob a cuppa and say thanks for the lift, and let him go, but he's hard and he's jittery, and every reason why he should stop just makes him _want_ that little bit more.

But Bob pulls away from One Two, and steps back, and back, and back further than that even.

'No,' he says, swallowing hard and twisting his arms behind his back, backing up to the wall. 'I'm serious, One Two, I'm leaving. I'm not doing this again.'

Bob's hard, he's so hard against his jeans One Two can see it. He reaches out a hand, fingers chasing the feel of Bob's skin, until he can lay his palm over the stretch of collarbone where Bob's shirt has pulled away. It's too big, all Bob's shirts are too big, like he thinks he's still growing or something, and One Two normally cares about at least having some kind of care in how you dress, but he can't bring himself to object to Bob wearing clothes that drape over his body like that and leave space for One Two's touch.

'C'mon, mate, don't do this to me,' One Two says hoarsely, feeling Bob's muscles lock up under his hands, like he's holding himself in check. 'Don't leave me like this,' he adds, feeling like a berk. 'I want you,' he whispers, but there's nothing but tight refusal in Bob's frame. One Two bites his lip, defeated, and lets go.

He's going to stop now. Because one thing he's not going to do is force. He'll push, and maybe he's already pushed too far, who knows. But he won't _take_.

Before he gets two steps away, though, Bob lets out a desperate noise and yanks One Two back, crushing their mouths together. 'Fucker,' he mutters, and bites One Two's jawline before kissing him properly. Bob's kisses are always hard, where his mouth is soft -- he doesn't yield, and that thing, that male thing of touching and taking, that's Bob all over, when he's not trying to hide from what he wants at least.

But the kiss comes in fits and starts, like Bob's arguing with himself. For all the force of the kiss, he's still not certain - he backs off as much as he comes on strong. One Two can feel the hesitation running through him -- he isn't touching like he should, full of confidence -- and he doesn't take control or lick his way into One Two's mouth the way One Two wants him to, the way he does that means One Two doesn't have to think or worry or freak out until afterwards, because during he's too busy, too strung out on the whole thing.

One Two thinks he knows a way to get Bob back on board, but he's -- he doesn't know how to -- he hasn't exactly done this before, alright? He's let Bob, and he's liked it, and obviously he's let girls and liked that too, but he's never...

He slides down onto his knees anyway.

Bob startles, blinking, his breathing becoming rapid and a little panicked, his eyes wide. One Two watches his face, looking up at him as he presses Bob's hips back into the wall and undoes his fly. This is mental. He must be mental.

He licks his lips and pulls Bob out of his boxer-briefs, and can't help the tiny intake of breath as he looks at it, really looks for the first time, because before now he's just closed his eyes and gone on touch, and mostly let Bob do what he wanted. Now, he's at eye-level with Bob's cock and he can't help his tiny intake of breath any more than he can help the urge to lick it, just a little. He wants to taste it, hungry for what it might feel like in his mouth, inside him that way. His hands are braced on Bob's knees, which means he can feel Bob tense at the same time as he moans.

'You -' Bob says, a scratchiness to his voice. He pushes One Two back a little, 'Mate, y'don't... this isn't the way...' He sounds like he's pleading. 'You can't just... do that -'

'I do what I want, Bob,' One Two says, taking a deep breath and steeling himself. He lets his lips brush at Bob's cock when he says, 'Unless you really don't want my lips wrapped around your cock. And I know you do.' And this really is fighting dirty, if Bob _doesn't_ want … but that tiny touch has him wanting _more_ , and even if Bob tried to push him away he isn't sure he could go until he's had a proper taste.

Bob groans, broken, shaking under One Two's hands. 'What I want and what you want and what we _should_ be doin' are different things,' Bob points out hoarsely, but he doesn't push away. One Two decides he's heard enough, pushes past Bob's weak resistance and swallows him down.

It's awkward-feeling, and it smells strange, and... and actually that doesn't fucking matter, because as soon as One Two's gone down as far as he can, Bob jerks back up like he can't help himself and makes One Two nearly choke, causing his own cock to jump, pressing up insistently against his zip. He fights Bob halfheartedly for control over the pace, but after a few seconds, Bob's fingers thread firmly through One Two's hair, and One Two's movements, up and down, are completely taken over. He panics, for a split second, and then ...

And then, he realises that's what he needs, that's his hit, letting Bob take him over. One Two lets Bob do what he wants -- just opens his mouth and is careful of his teeth, and lets him do it. It's not like One Two knows what he's doing anyway, so he lets Bob show him how he likes it. And it's soft, and careful, and One Two's dizzy in his head and hard in his jeans at the thought that Bob can do whatever he wants now, and whatever it makes One Two feel, that's Bob doing it, all Bob.

The gentle, teaching feel of it doesn't last long -- Bob's breathing becomes noises which become grunts, _moans_ , and soon he's fucking One Two's face like he's desperate for it. There are moments when One Two almost can't breathe, and moments where he's shoved off balance, but all the way through, Bob's fingers are careful, cradling One Two's head like he's precious. One Two has both of his hands scrabbling frantically at his own jeans because he's about to come, he's about to come from being manhandled by his best friend, and he gets his jeans open and he gets one hand on his cock -

-and then Bob yanks him off unexpectedly, breathing like he's run miles, and One Two looks up at him, confused, unsure, wanting more even as his jaw aches and his lips burn, and he licks his lips to soothe them, he leans forward, trying to get back --

\-- and Bob, looking right at him, comes with a choked sound all over One Two's face, hot and wet and unexpected --

\-- and One Two, knees bruised and jaw sore and right up until that moment still hanging out for just a little more, just a little more, _comes_ , dripping everywhere, finally satisfied with his fix.


End file.
